The First Pop Concert
by Ness Ayton
Summary: In days of yore how did the concerned citizens of Albion seek to help those who were experiencing hardship? A story set in the days of King Arthur with a modern twist; or perhaps it's a modern story with an Arthurian twist. Whatever, enjoy!


**The First Pop Concert by Ness Ayton**

Written for ZineAid for those of you who remember that far back.

* * *

_Merlin: "But I unfortunately was born at the wrong end of time, and I have to live backwards from in front, while surrounded by a lot of people living forwards from behind. Some people call it second sight" – TH White_

Arthur sat balanced precariously on the back legs of his throne, feet resting on the highly polished round table, head nodding wearily and the crown in danger of tumbling off and rolling away at any moment.

"Morning, your Majesty."

The throne shot backwards across the hall, depositing Arthur on the floor in a most undignified manner and the crown clattered to the ground. He peered sheepishly over the edge of the table and watched as Merlin advanced up the hall towards him.

"Morning, your Majesty," Merlin repeated with a broad grin.

"Morning, Merlin," Arthur acknowledged before crawling under the table to retrieve the crown which had come to rest there. He emerged just in time to see Merlin replace the throne in an upright position. "Why didn't you announce yourself?" he asked crossly, vigorously dusting himself down.

"I did, but you were…….er…….asleep."

"I was nor asleep, I was thinking," Arthur snapped, settling himself back on the throne.

"And do you know how long it takes the castle servants to polish this table and how much beeswax they use?" Merlin continued.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Yes, well…….er…….that's to say………well an awful lot anyway and what do you do? Use it as a footrest, that's what!" Merlin glared triumphantly at the king who squirmed like a small boy. Having made his point the wizard dusted the offending patch with a corner of his cloak and then perched on the edge of the table. "Now what were you thinking about, my boy?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin's presumption before speaking.

"I was thinking about those poor people in the north whose crops have failed and who have nothing to eat. I was wondering what we could do to help them." His voice was wistful as he looked up at Merlin hopefully.

The wizard shook his head sadly.

"There's very little we can do, my boy, very little. They need so much and ………" He broke off suddenly and banged his head with his fist. "Why Merlin, you old fool, of course there's something we can do. We can have a Live Aid concert."

"A what?" Lancelot's voice floated across to them from the alcove where he had been sitting, tuning his lute. He rose to his feet and strolled over, strumming a few soft chords. "What's a Live Aid concert?" he asked again as he draped himself languidly over the back of the throne.

"A Live Aid concert?" Well……let me see….. Well, you get together as many of the big pop groups as you can and they give a concert and people pay to see them and the money goes to help people who have no food and it's all very simple and tremendous fun……." He stopped abruptly, noticing the quizzical expressions on his audience's faces.

"Pop groups? Concerts? What are you talking about?" Arthur and Lancelot demanded simultaneously.

"Pop groups sing songs," Merlin answered patiently.

"Like minstrels?"

"Something like – only louder and….."

"Where did you get this idea from?" Arthur asked, smiling indulgently at the old wizard.

"Oh 1985 I think," Merlin replied absent-mindedly.

"I might have known," Arthur sighed. "Merlin, this is the fifth century AD – the Dark Ages!"

"I'm sure we can do something similar though," the wizard persisted, unperturbed. "All we need is a list of the popular singers of the court and get them all together to sing."

"At the same time?" Lancelot asked incredulously.

"No, no, one after the other," Merlin replied, beginning to loose patience now he felt that he was on a roll with the idea, "and that will make our Live Aid concert. Now let me see, where are the pop charts?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows and turned to grin at Lancelot as Merlin snapped his fingers authoritatively. A piece of paper appeared on the table beside him. Merlin picked it up and peered over the top of his half-specs at the writing.

"_Lady in Red _by Chris de Burgh," he read. "Now who? July 1986? That's no use you fool," he snapped, tearing the paper to shreds. Various more papers appeared in quick succession, each dated wrongly and each receiving the same treatment from the increasingly irate wizard. Eventually the table looked as if it had had its own private snowstorm. At long last, however, a scroll of parchment arrived and Merlin unrolled it.

"That's more like it," he murmured and proceeded to read:

"The Camelot Top Fifteen. At number one _Avalon _by King Arthur followed by _Nights in White Satin _by Sir Galahad with _I'm on Fire _by Queen Guinevere at three. Then in quick succession there's _Spirit in the Sky _by the Glastonbury Monks, _Celtic Soul Brothers _by the Druids and _Chain Gang _by the Knights of the Round Table. Morgan le Fay is at number seven with _Devil Woman _andSir Gawaine is there with _Green Light. _Lancelot you're at nine with _Bachelor Boy _closely followed by Lady Elaine with _Holding Out For A Hero."_

Lancelot had the grace to blush as Arthur tried hard to suppress a snigger. Ignoring the young men Merlin continued.

"The Pages are at number eleven with _The Young Ones, _Sir Mordred is a new entry with _I'm No Hero _whilst the Ladies of Camelot are a respectable thirteen with _Miss You Nights. _I'm at fourteen with _Could It Be Magic _and Sir Gareth had dropped to fifteen with _A Whiter Shade of Pale."_

By the time he had reached the end Merlin was red in the face and spluttering.

"Fourteenth? Only fourteenth?" he spat. "How come my song's at fourteen while you've been number one for nearly a year now?"

"Well, I am the king," Arthur replied defensively.

"Humph that shouldn't make any difference. Favouritism that's what it is!"

"So, what do we do now?" Lancelot interrupted. Merlin glared at him and then subsided, muttering into his long white beard.

"Please Merlin, tell us what we do next," Arthur wheedled. "I'm beginning to like this idea of yours."

Slightly mollified Merlin condescended to continue to outline the event.

"We get together the amplifiers, PA system, synthesizers, microphones, acoustic guitars, drum kits, lasers…….. Oh hang it all, we don't have those things in this day and age. Why couldn't we live then instead of now?! I suppose we'll have to make do with lutes and pipes. So primitive!"

Arthur positively bristled at the implied criticism but managed to keep it in check as he gently prompted the wizard.

"And then I suppose people give something to come and hear it?"

Merlin nodded.

"A sheep or goat," he said.

"Two chickens or geese," Lancelot suggested.

"A sack of grain," Arthur added.

"A cheese or flagon of mead. All of which will then be loaded onto carts and sent to the starving people in the north," Merlin finished triumphantly.

"But where will we hold it?" the ever practical Lancelot suddenly asked.

All three creased their brows in an effort to think.

"Somewhere open with a raised piece of ground in the middle," Merlin offered at last.

Arthur smiled.

"I know where," he said.

"Where?" Lancelot and Merlin demanded.

"Glastonbury!"


End file.
